


turn the light out (say goodnight)

by heartwasalegend



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 23:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartwasalegend/pseuds/heartwasalegend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel and Quinn drive home from college together. It does not go well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	turn the light out (say goodnight)

“This is completely your fault.”

Quinn clenches her teeth when for the sixth time she turns the key in the ignition and it fails to catch.

“Oh yeah?” she grits out. “How do you figure, Rachel?”

“Well it’s not _my_ car that’s refusing to start right now.”

Quinn rolls her eyes and says, “That’s because you don’t have a car.”

“Perhaps if I did we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Rachel says, crossing her arms in a huff.

“Yeah, well _perhaps_ if you weren’t too cheap to fly home for Schuester's wedding– “

“Excuse me?” Rachel practically spits. “Which one of us paid for all of the snacks and half of the gas?”

Quinn turns the key again and an awful metallic grinding noise fills the car, drowning out Rachel’s squawking for a second. After a moment she turns the key back and collapses limply, her forehead pressing against the steering wheel. The only sound for a few tense moments is the light drizzle of rain against the roof of the car.

“All I’m saying is that those snacks were hardly cheap and – “

“Rachel!” Quinn snaps, turning to shoot her a glare. “You brought repulsive vegan snacks. You know how many people are vegan in this car? One.”

Rachel rolls her eyes and mutters, “Forgive me for trying to promote a healthy lifestyle.”

Quinn takes a deep, resentful breath and tries the ignition again. No luck.

“You know, if you hadn’t made me pull over none of this would have happened.”

Rachel shakes her head. “It was _pouring_ Quinn. Not pulling over would have been dangerous and irresponsible and you know it. At the time you were all too happy to take my suggestion. In fact you took my suggestion all the way off the highway and down this charming dirt road we’re stuck on.”

“Whatever,” Quinn seethes. “If you hadn’t insisted on charging your stupid phone while we were stopped the car’s battery wouldn’t be dead right now.”

“First of all, we don’t know that the problem is the battery. Last I checked you’re not going to Yale to be a mechanic,” Rachel says, fixing Quinn with a patronizing look. “Second of all, we need my phone to navigate because you refused to buy a road map.”

“Look this obviously isn’t getting us anywhere,” Quinn says, biting down on the inside of her cheek. “Do you have service on that completely charged phone of yours? We’re probably going to need a tow.”

Rachel peers at the screen of her phone and says, “Not at the moment. You?”

“No,” Quinn replies, not-so-gently replacing her phone in the cup holder next to her.

Rachel starts waving her phone around in the air, darting her arm to and fro before pausing, every few seconds to look at the display. 

Quinn can feel that awful, electric catch in her chest at the sight. The one that always seems to accompany seeing Rachel these days. It’s been building, ever since they first started school, more than a year ago now. It intensified with every visit, every video chat, every email. It’s early October of their second year in college and it almost feels as if something inside her is straining to break right through her ribcage.

“You really think that’s gonna do anything other than make you look like a moron?” Quinn snaps automatically, the feeling dissipating slightly.

Rachel shoots her a dirty look and says, “I don’t see you coming up with a better solution right now.”

They’ve been fighting like this a lot lately; more than almost ever before. It’s easier to slip back into their old pattern of bickering over trivial issues than to figure out why exactly things between them are so tense. 

After another minute of waving her phone around Rachel’s arm finally falls, defeated, onto her lap.

“Well,” she says after a moment. “At least the storm seems to be passing.”

As if on cue a clap of thunder sounds overhead, causing them both to jump in their seats. Barely a second later the drizzling becomes an all out pour.

“Perfect,” Quinn runs a hand through her hair and slumps against her seat. “Just perfect.”

 

“It’s getting dark,” Rachel says, her voice soft but startling all the same after nearly three hours of silence.

Quinn checks the time on her phone. “It’s almost seven.”

Rachel nods and rubs at her arms. “How far are we from home?”

“A couple hours, maybe?” Quinn replies. “You seen any cars?”

It’s a stupid question but now that they’re talking Quinn feels compelled to fill the silence.

“No more than you have, Quinn,” Rachel murmurs.

Quinn looks over at her then, squinting in the dark. Rachel’s shivering.

“Here,” Quinn says automatically, unzipping her hoodie. “Take this.”

Rachel reaches over and stills Quinn’s hands. “Don’t be silly. You’ll just get cold and then we’ll spend the night passing it back and forth.”

Quinn smiles weakly and wills her hand to stay still under the soft weight of Rachel’s. Her whole body floods with a strange kind of relief when Rachel pulls away.

“Can you pop the trunk?” Rachel asks. “I have a few sweaters in my bag.”

“It’s still pouring out there, are you sure?” 

Rachel shrugs, the corners of her mouth lifting halfheartedly. “I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?”

“Well,” Quinn says, reaching down for the button to open the trunk. “Be quick okay?”

Rachel rolls her eyes and laughs, “I thought I might take my time, actually.”

Quinn feels her cheeks heat up immediately and turns away towards the window. “Go on then,” she says gruffly.

She can feel Rachel staring at the back of her head for an endless moment before she hears the click of the door’s latch and the car’s temperature suddenly drops. She has half a mind to ask Rachel to grab her another sweater too, but then the door slams shut after her and Quinn’s alone.

Barely a minute later Rachel practically catapults into the passenger seat, quickly pulling the door shut behind her.

Rachel turns to Quinn then, her teeth chattering. “It’s s – so c – cold out there.”

A single drop of rain is hanging from the very tip of Rachel’s nose, shining just a little in the darkness. Quinn laughs softly and unthinkingly reaches out and brushes it away with the tip of her finger. Immediately after Rachel licks her lips and for a second it’s as if all the air has been sucked out of the car. Quinn feels that jolt again, pulling right from the center of her chest.

“So,” Rachel says, glancing away. “I brought some things I thought we might need.”

Quinn clears her throat. “Yeah?”

“My sweater obviously,” Rachel says, already pulling it over her head. “I found a blanket back there so I thought – you know just in case – “ she trails off.

Quinn swallows thickly. “Good thinking.”

“And this,” Rachel says, holding up a travel sized game of Scrabble and inexplicably, a headlamp. “I thought it might help pass the time.”

Quinn nods and says, “You’re on.”

 

“Vernix is not a word.”

“Yes it is,” Quinn insists, shifting around in her seat. By mutual agreement they’d moved into the back for space. “I remember because Santana sent me a picture of it like two weeks ago. She learned about it in her Child Development class.”

“I’ve never trusted Santana Lopez,” Rachel says. “I’m not about to start now.”

“Will you let it go?” Quinn replies. “You’ve beaten me three games in a row, I think you can give me this one.”

“Fine.”

Quinn watches Rachel as she starts clearing off the board.

“You’re still shaking,” she observes.

“I’m fine,” Rachel assures her, shaking her head. “I’m – actually I’m tired. Maybe we should try and get some sleep. I doubt any cars will be around this late and we’re hardly going to go out looking for help in this weather.”

Quinn glances out the window, as if she could see anything through the rain and the inky dark. “You’re probably right. How do you – “ her voice catches nervously. “How do you want to do this?”

“Well,” Rachel says, arranging the blanket to cover both of their laps before leaning her shoulder against the door. “Like this?”

Quinn nods and follows suit, folding her arm against the window and pillowing her head against it.

“Goodnight,” Quinn says softly, squeezing her eyes shut.

Rachel clicks off her headlamp a moment later and with audibly chattering teeth replies, “Sleep tight.”

 

 

It’s been twenty minutes and Quinn is still very much awake. She’s not sure if it’s because of the pounding rain or the freezing temperature or the way Rachel’s shivering so hard that the blanket they’re sharing keeps falling off her shoulders.

Quinn sighs internally and braces herself.

“This is stupid,” she says, shifting towards Rachel. “Come here.”

A few seconds later Quinn has managed to contort Rachel’s frigid body and her own until they’re curled together across the length of the back seat, the blanket draped over both of their bodies. Quinn swallows against the fluttering feeling at the back of her throat and slings an arm over Rachel’s back, pulling at her until her head is settled beneath Quinn’s chin.

“Is that better?” Quinn asks, her voice nearly a whisper.

“Y – Yes,” Rachel responds, though she’s still shaking a little too hard for Quinn’s liking. “Thank you.”

“Sure.”

Quinn starts to rub slow, sweeping circles across Rachel’s back. It feels absurdly intimate and it’s only the fact that Rachel might actually die if she does that keeps Quinn from pulling away.

“Q – quite an eventful road trip, huh?” Rachel jokes softly. 

“Yeah,” Quinn agrees with a quiet laugh.

“I r – really wish I’d flown,” Rachel admits.

Quinn can’t help but laugh at how wistful Rachel sounds, and a moment later Rachel does too.

Once they’ve fallen quiet again, Rachel shifts a little, presses in tighter. Quinn feels the unmistakable brush of lips against the side of her neck, and she lets out a quiet, involuntary gasp.

“Sorry,” Rachel says, immediately pulling back. “That was an accident.”

“It’s okay,” Quinn says quickly. “It’s fine.”

“No, I’m sorry.”

Quinn can see her face now, or at least, the outline of it in the dark. The air between them is thick with something Quinn still doesn’t really want to think about. The tightness in her chest is throbbing; stronger now than ever before.

“Quinn?” Rachel asks, her voice lilting up in concern.

Rachel’s lips are so cold, and her hair is wet between Quinn's fingers and she's not sure she’ll ever be able to stop associating Rachel with the smell of rain after this. 

It’s too dark to see the expression on Rachel’s face when she finally pulls away and Quinn’s not sure if she’s grateful or disappointed.

“Oh,” Rachel says softly, as if Quinn has just told her some completely mundane piece of information and not planted one on her in the backseat of her car. “I – “

She never finishes that sentence because a second later she’s pressing forward, her lips colliding with the corner of Quinn’s mouth, nearly missing it altogether in the dark. Quinn’s hand slips down her jaw and tilts it until they’re lined up just right, just – perfect.

 

The chattering of her own teeth wakes Quinn when it’s just barely dawn. The first thing she notices is that that it’s still _freezing_ in the car, followed quickly by the realization that the rain has stopped. She lifts a frigid hand to rub at her eyes and it’s only then that she catches sight of the mess of brown hair spilling across her lap.

She thinks about not waking Rachel. As long as she’s asleep it’s as if there’s only one person in the world who knows about the kiss. Only Quinn, and maybe she can just close her eyes and go back to sleep and it will almost be like it never happened. Nothing would have to change. 

Rachel stirs in her lap a moment later, burrowing her face deeper against Quinn’s stomach before her entire body stills abruptly. The blanket lifts with her as she takes a deep breath and rolls onto her back, staring up at Quinn with nervous, sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” she says softly. 

Something inside her that she hadn’t even realized was out of place just _settles_ at the sound of Rachel’s voice.

“Hey,” she says as she bites down on the corner of her lip, trying and failing to stifle a smile.

Rachel’s lips are a little blue, but they pull into the warmest grin Quinn’s ever seen.

Forgive her if she hopes the stupid car never starts.

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from livejournal.


End file.
